My love wanders the rooms, melodious, flute notes, plucked wires, full of a wine the magi drank on the way to Bethlehem

We are three. The moon comes from its quiet corner, puts a putcher of water down in the center. The circle of surface flames

One of us kneels to kiss the threshold-dust One drinks with wine-flames playing over his face One watches the gathering and says to any cold onlookers This dance is the joy of existence.

What is the joy of your existence? share with us at info@lovepeaceyoga.com